The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1887-04-20

Mr.. Pennington was a bald man. 1t
amused me to trace the line at which his
wrinkled forehead ended and the skinny
smoothness began. 1t amused me, Also to
see teaspoon and sundry bottles of dyspep-
STA remedies on his desk. He touched the
manuscript nervously, made deep burrows of
distress all across that seamy forehead, and
in beseeching, fretful tone said:
Really, II don't know what to-what
to do with it,
Read it and then publish it." answered
promptly and cheerfully.'
Mr.. Pennington looked thoroughly miser-
able as indicating the unpleasant familiar he
said: 1.-THE reading is done by Mr.. Bell, y
and then put the manuscript into his hands.
But, really, young man." he continued,
''you ought to be at better work than book
making. It's vice"
Laughing outright, l said: Somebody
has to write 'em."
"But everybody writes 'em, - said Penning-
ton; that's the trouble. How old are your
Twenty-Five. Name, Nelson Floyd
"Pityi' ne exclaimed softly; and gave a
nod in my direction and went ON with his
letter writing. Taking this for publisher
polite dismissal, 1 walked out. Passing
Bell at his desk scowled at his back cranial
development and noted that it was particu-
larly faulty.
Ned Russell, my chum, admirer and good
friend was waiting on the stairs. Ned was
twenty-one, had very small means and a
very large faculty for friendship. On my
arrival in New York, Just year before,
fresh from college, he had heartily sup
ported me in the opinion that a book-a
- e., l<o1 L
phrased it, would benny only fit introduction
to fame and fortune. Ned had smoked
away many hours beside my desk in rever-
entail silence, and his opinions were certainly
delightful. What came short of impressing
him as wonderful or dramatic and
deucedly touching made him shake his
head, look very solemn, take out his pipe
and calculate; deep, by Georgel Nelse,
that's deep-profound."
Well, there outside stood Ned, all excite
ment, hope and fidelity. told him of the
idgety, uncomfortable publisher, and then
described Bell, the clerk, his averted eyes
and dark face. Ned's own frank counten-
ance flushed with interest and anxiety, and
he formed conclusion at once.
''That fellows a sneak-a sneak and a
scamp. Look out for him, old chappy.
Now strike while the irons hot and polish
off the second vol" Ned had a mercantile
fashion of using authorizations. "Tll sit by
he added cheerfully, "while you twistify
that political plot and bring the cardinal up
with round turn in the end.n
Sit by he did, every evening, in a sort of
enthusiastic hush, and at last, after six
weeks, he could exclaim, throwing up his
hat and deity catching it: "Vol. two done
HurrahP Ned insisted upon carrying the
precious parcel in his own hands, only de-
livering it over to me at the threshold of
Pennington's outer Office. AS | passed Bell
his head was leaning ON his hand, and
hardly glancing up, he made me what Ned
observing from the hallway, designated as a
'sneaking, hang-dog sort of bow
1.-THE second volume of The Dukes Re
venge,'" said to Mr. Pennington, holding
out the bulky roll.
His forehead amused me more than ever.
1t wrinkled up like piece of Grape as he
stammered:
''Ye-ye-yes, but--you see, the first part
has been read and it's of no use-no use at
all. I'll try to tell you why. Many faults
in writing may be, under proper criticism,
quickly atoned but your work is crude, and
crudity can be overcome only by years of
hard experience Here, Bell, bring that first
part" Bell came softly and laid the first in
stallment of manuscript on the desk beside
the second. "You can't understand me"
Pennington went on, looking the picture of
woe, "because," and he drew deep sigh,
because you are crude, too, and he added
deliberately, with marked emphasis, "a
very crude young man."
"Then there's no chance for the book ?" |
asked, trying to keep steady voice.
He glanced up. / must have looked very
boyish, for was beardless and slim, and
had mobile, eager face He slowly shook
his head.
Just then saw there was another person
in the room, young girl; school girl, she
seemed, with long braids of fair hair hanging
to her waist, and childish face with childish
blue eyes. With that second self, that other
consciousness which can be busy over triies
when the everyday faculties are absorbed by
some great perplexity, / took note Of her
while asked of Mr.. Pennington;
won't you give my book your personal
attention2''
BLESS me p Pennington exclaimed, fresh
ening up with surprise. "Why you-you
seem to know nothing about the rules Of
publishing houses"
"well," urged with emphasis, 81 am
sure the work only needs fair and impartial
consideration"
"0h," answered the publisher, ''you think
the people who risk their money in putting
out books are governed by personal preju-
dices2 Yes, all young writer's think so. If
showed you our accounts and proved that
good work brings gain and bad work brings
loss you would still believe we had some
fiendish delight in trampling down genius.
Then touching the manuscript charity with
the point of finger, as if it were an infected
thing, he said, shortly, Leave it,"
As passed out saw the young girls blue
eyes fixed upon me steadily, and wondered
what could bring such bright creature to
that misty office.
"Ned, =" said /, as the good fellow met me
with smiling expectations, Pennington
seems not quite pleased with the first vol
ume." couldn't bring myself to repeat to
q stanch admirer the publisher frank criti-
cisn in full.
sAin't pleased? Hah p exclaimed Ned,
with friendly violence, didn't that sneaky,
demonstrating cur, that Bell read your
vol. oneI'
eyes"
"That's it," said Ned; that's just what's
the natter Theinelegance and inaccuracy
of my friend speech ! always pardoned in
view of its hearty good nature. Now" he
went ON, 'youcarry that m Che pronounced
the letters separately, Nelse, to a publisher,
that's got decent reader.
"But," answered, II haven't another
copy and the original scrawl was destroyed
bit by Bit
Ned went to his business, and went
where / received $50 on my watch from a
Hebrew gentleman. Nothing remained Of
the $1,000, my whole patrimony, with which
/ had launched into life and literature some
hing over year before was an orphan.